Sunfury Spire Romance
by Delgara Stonesmith
Summary: Lor'themar Theron meets a potential wife, but it is going to be hard to keep her safe. War looms near... Rated M until I figure out if It should have lemon. R/R please. Thank you for your support. New chapter soon!
1. Meeting the Girl

**Rated M for Mature due to eroticism, language and mature themes, mostly in the later chapters.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own World of Warcraft nor any characters in this Fanfiction.**

_This is my first Warcraft fan fiction. So if it sucks please leave a comment and I'll improve. Thank you._

_Chapter 1: Meeting the girl._

Lor'themar idly rubbed his head. Another night in Sunfury Spire. Another lonely night. Lor'themar yawned.

He sat alone in his bed chamber, lonely. It was sundown, and tonight he felt a little bit more adventurous than usual. The days had been treating him well, no raids on Silvermoon, no riots, and no meetings. He found himself less stressed, and with more leeway than when he first was Regent Lord.

And he had a good idea of how he wanted to spend his leeway time...

He wanted a woman, no, a mate. Desperately. He wanted to pull his fingers through her hair, wanted to hold her close at night, wanted to kiss her in the morning and kiss her in the night. Wanted to love someone. Sadly, his post as Regent Lord had not allowed him much ample time...

Until now.

Lor'themar began to pull together what he truly wanted from a female blood elf. Beauty, or course. Strength. Wisdom. Humor, but at the same time seriousness when appropriate. Bravery was a must as well. Cunning would have to be implied as well. Intelligence. Agility. And of course, kindness. He rubbed his soul patch beard as he thought of his dream mate. But then...

Where and how was he suposed to find this girl?

The question echoed in his mind. He did not know how to answer. But, he did know that, he would find this girl. Looking out the window with his one good eye, he noticed that the sun had set. All of the prize woman would be at home by now. "_I will have to find her on the morrow," _ he whispered. _"Untill then..." _

Lor'themar began to get ready for his slumber.

Lor'themar awoke in the early morning. As a farstrider, his mind had adapted to waking up at such times, in order to get ready for the dangers he would have to face each day. However, he was not a farstrider, at this time. He was the Regent Lord of Quel'thalas. Old habits died hard in his case.

The cool air of the morning seeped through his room as Lor'themar got up and prepared to search for a suitable companion. Striding over to his grand wardrobe, he slipped on some casual, and a tad bit seducing, clothes. A green and golden shirt was his torso covering. All of the buttons were not buttoned up, his biceps showing through. He let the ends of his shirt flow over his dark trousers. He wore his boots, signature boots actually. From the day he had lost his eye. The eye patch he wore over one of his eyes was a bit ragged, just to make sure he did not attract a petty woman whom could not protect herself. He wanted a strong, brave woman, one who could fire a bow.

Putting on no undershirt, Lor'themar began to walk out of his room. He knew where he would probably find the girl he wanted.

In Farstriders' Square. Where he himself had been once trained.

Lor'themar hastily walked down the steps to his spire. Once outside, he called for his hawkstrider, whom he named Strides, who came to him in a hurry. Strides' green feathers reminded Lor'themar of the days he had ridden the great bird into battle against the orcs of the second war, with his farstrider brothers and sisters beside him. Those days were but memories now, as Lor'themar realized that most of the ones he considered "friends", were dead.

Nonetheless, Lor'themar mounted atop his great bird and held the reins, memories of his past temporarily filling his mind...

_It had been many years ago. Lor'themar still was Sylvannas' second in command in the Ranger Corps. of Silvermoon. Now, Lor'themar rid through the lush forests that were now gone. He was late, _**very **_late. _**Extremely **_late. With Strides going on his maximum speed, Lor'themar had begun to worry. Would Sylvannas take away his rank for being this late? How would it look for the Ranger General of Silvermoon's lieutenant to be this late? Lor'themar had shaken his head to forget about the thoughts that plagued him now._

_Eventually, he reached the clearing that Sylvannas had awaited him in. Strides came to a stop, and Lor'themar dismounted, tying his mount to a nearby tree. Sylvannas, whom was sitting on the cool grass, opened an eye. _

_"And so, my partially wayward second in command has finally arrived," she muttered with false surprise. _

_Lor'themar began to sweat. "Listen, Lady Windrunner, I can explain-" _

_"No need to, Theron, for I understand why you have taken a long time in coming." _

_Theron raised his brows. "You do?"_

_Sylvannas nodded. "Still getting into the habit of waking up early, are you not?" _

_Lor'themar's cheeks went rosy. "Well..."_

_Sylvannas smiled. "It's fine, Lor'themar. Loosen up. I wished to speak to you informally."_

_Lor'themar nodded._

_Sylvannas started to speak. "As you may or may not have known, lying to the southern most point of our high kingdom, lies a great orc fortress that the orcs know as, 'Kalshinnmmar'. Barbaric, but what did you expect from those green bastards? Anyway, the fortress proves a great threat to the town of Gelsh. Each day, it produces more orcish grunts to fight for their Horde. I need you to take a force of rangers over to the fortress and destroy it and kill the leader of that fortress. Immediately."_

_Lor'themar nodded. "Was that all you wished of me, my lady?" _

_Sylvannas stood up and walked towards Lor'themar until they were a mere step apart. "Yes. You may leave now, but first..."_

_Sylvannas leaned forwards and kissed Lor'themar on his lips. Lor'themar's eyes widened, as she had caught him off his guard. They kissed for about a minute, before Sylvannas ran off into the trees of the woods._

_Lor'themar stood there, dazed and surprised. _

Lor'themar blinked twice. He had just arrived in Farstriders' Square. Looking around, he searched for a female. From his ranger days, he knew that there were more males in the rangers than females. But he was sure he would find a suitable woman for himself.

Then, he found one. A middle aged looking female blood elf ranger was practicing on a dwarf dummy. She had a good frame, silver hair as his, and seemed to be a veteran. She loaded her arrow and aimed at the dummy, for the head, of course. She let go. The arrow flew straight and true, right onto the dummy. Lor'themar grinned. _Time to catch the prize..._

Lor'themar dismounted and began to walk towards her.

**I will update it later. This is only chapter 1. Remember, be nice, this is my first time with such things. Thank you. See you next time!**


	2. Courtship

**Disclaimer: I do not own World of Warcraft or any of the characters in this fan fiction.**

**Rated M for mature...for a very good reason. The Lemon starts 4th chapter.**

**Chapter 2: Courtship **

The Silver Haired blood elf farstrider woman payed no heed to Lor'themar, too busy training with the dummy. She reloaded her bow with an arrow from her quiver, her pale hands softly yet quickly grasping the arrow and putting it into it's place. Her grace with her movements made the Regent Lord smile. She took a deep breath before firing another arrow, this time the arrow landed dead center on the forehead of the dummy. By now, the dummy had many nicks and scars on it, as if a wild beast had attacked it brutally and without grace. But Theron knew that it's wounds were not from a savage animal. It was from the hunter that was standing near it, brushing her hair with her hands and breathing the clean, Eversong Woods air. Lor'themar grinned. She had not noticed him yet, too busy prizing her exploits. The perfect time to make his move.

Lor'themar walked closer to her until they were a few strides apart. His footsteps were light and so it was a great surprise to the female when he spoke. With many years behind him with practice in his tones, his voice was majestic and light, with not a bit of melancholy or fear.

_"_Well, hello there, female farstrider_," _ he said softly, attempting to seduce her. One of the tones he had learned through all his years as Regent Lord. "May I ask for your name?"

The silver haired girl dropped her arrow and turned to the Regent Lord, hastily bowing. Lor'themar glanced into her eyes. He could see much of her good qualities, her power, her courage, her intelligence. But mostly, her beauty. The girl could not help but look at his exposed abdomen. The moment she got a good glance she looked back into his eyes. Lor'themar allowed himself one, sly grin as she opened her mouth to speak.

_"_Cyrstilynda, my lord_," _she replied. Her voice was as sweet as sugar and as soft as a pillow.

Lor'themar took a step closer to her. Cyrstilynda was so beautiful, and she had such a good voice.

"I must say, Cyrstilynda, you are prettier than the prettiest flower,_" _ he praised. The female ranger began to blush.

_"_Why, thank you, my Lord Regent,_" _she replied, bowing once again.

Lor'themar took a short and barley noticeable glance at Cyrstilynda's bosoms. They were rather large, for an elf of course, and made Lor'themar even more aroused. He then walked close to her until the space between them was no more. Then, slowly, he wrapped one of his hands around her. Cyrstilynda's eyes widened at the sudden loving movement. But then she felt Lor'themar's toned biceps against her skin, and felt at ease. Lor'themar brang his mouth to her ears.

"I am going to tell it straight, Cyrstil," he whispered softly in her ear. "Do you have a mate?"

"No."

"Good," Lor'themar grinned. "You see, I am searching for one, and I dearly hope that you are as well. Do not fear, I am a good lover, I can protect you and I am financially protected from theft. I have been told that I am nice, maybe a little too nice, and as you can see from the scars on my face and the lack of two eyes, I have been through a lot. We do not have to get married right away, of course, that would be next to foolish on the grand scale of things. All I am asking for is, one night, just a dinner in the Spire. After that I will decide if we should move on. So, what do you say?"

Cyrstilynda blinked. She was in total shock. The Regent Lord of Silvermoon was asking her to dinner. _The _Regent Lord. She could not believe it. She began to shake a bit. Lor'themar noticed her sudden fear of him and frowned. "What's wrong? Have I done something wrong in the courting process? By the sun, forgive me."

Cyrstil quickly shook her head. "No, no," she said. "It's fine. I'll eat with you. It's just that..."

"That...?"

"That I have never been on a courting before, great Regent Lord. In fact, I do not even know how to take care of a man. I am sorry Lor'themar but, you would be better off with another."

Lor'themar froze for a mere moment. Then he brang himself closer to her ear and nibbled on it slightly. When he was finished, he put his lips to the opening of the ear and whispered, "no. I expect that you will be just the right one for me." He then rubbed his hands along her back and stroked her silver hair. Cyrstil smiled slightly and sighed. He was teasing her and she knew it. She then smiled and said, "if you are final about your decision, then I accept your offer." This time, her tone was more confident . Lor'themar thought her tones were good enough. He called for his Hawkstrider, and mounted upon it, helping her up as well. She held onto him tight as he began to ride off to the spire.

XXX

**End of chapter 2. Sorry for lack of length. Chapter 3 will be better.**


	3. Dinner at the Spire

**Disclaimer: I do not own Warcraft **

**Rated M for mature, for a very good reason. Lemon starts next chapter.**

**Chapter 3: Dinner at the Spire**

Cyrstilynda tapped her finger idly against the patterned table, wondering how long it would take for the Regent Lord to emerge from his room. She sat alone in the dinning room of the spire, awaiting Lor'themar's company and voice. It was evening and the sun was about to leave from sight.

Lor'themar had made sure that Cyrstilynda was prepared for the night. She was dressed in an elegant gown, red and white with golden trims. _"I am new to this... courtship, but I believe it is the male's job to give the female all the gifts, and the female is suposed to... accept them?" _He had told her. She had bowed and accepted the gift, respectfully. Cyrstil smiled. The memories were sweet, and so far Lor'themar seemed to be a nice person.

But could she trust him...?

Finally, the Regent Lord emerged from the curtains in the doorway. He wore his old Ranger General-Lieutenant outfit from his Ranger Days. Elegant and grace flowed from Lor'themar as he sat across from his partner. The female ranger nodded and smiled. "Ranger General-Lieutenant Lor'themar Theron..." she said quietly.

The Lord Regent of Quel'thalas noticed the silent comment and grinned. "Why yes, that is-was my title on the days I wore this. Today, however, I am Lord Regent, and that well possibly be my title... forever." Lor'themar drifted off then, entering a temporary state of depression. He thought of Kael'thas, his betrayal, and eventual death. All of it made him shudder involuntarily, and made Cyrstil feel a bit more concerned about the Veteran. Coming closer to him, Cyrstil laid a hand on his shoulder.

Lor'themar blinked. Then he smiled. "Thank you..." he said, voice more secure. Cyrstil just smiled and went back to go sit in her chair.

A servant came from the curtains and bowed before the both of them. "My Lord Regent," he said, tones practiced. "What would you like to feast upon tonight?"

Lor'themar rubbed his chin and looked at his date. She smiled at him, and nodded. "I believe you should order first."

Lor'themar looked back to the servant. "I will have our finest steak, accompanied by a side of mashed potatoes, and maybe an entire bottle of whisky to quench my thirsts." His tones were rather practiced, as always.

Cyrstilynda could tell that Lor'themar was a well eater, and ordered what she usually did. "Then I shall have a leg of chicken, with a side of some corn and fruits. I will have a glass of water to satisfy myself."

The servant bowed and went off to place their orders. A candle light was place upon their table by another, before he too walked away. Lor'themar glanced at Cyrstil and noted: "It seems you were not born a noble... am I correct?"

Cyrstil blinked. "Umm... yes. You see, my family was originally a farming family, so we sort of shared everything we had, and never took anything for granted. We all had to pitch in and work, you see. What I just ordered was our usual dinner."

Lor'themar nodded. "How many brothers and or sisters do you have? Just curious."

"5 brothers and 4 sisters."

Lor was almost thrown out of his chair by that comment.

"And you, My Lord Regent?"

Lor'themar froze. His lips barley moved when he answered. "One... Brother..."

His voice was barley audible.

"And where is your brother now?"

"I...do not... wish to speak of him. Let us just say... he's a High Elf. We don't talk much."

"Sorry, My Lord-Regent. I never wanted to upset-"

"Calm, Cyrstil. I was never mad at you. But.. I must say, you remind me of someone I used to know. Tell me your Surname."

Cyrstil smiled at him. _I cannot tell him yet._

"Brightgrain."

XXX

Minutes later, the food had arrived. The two dug in, both trying to show their best, eating slowly, glancing at one another. Cyrstilynda couldn't stop looking at Lor'themar. In his ranger attire, he looked so... sexy. But she eventually had to try and stop thinking of those things. She wanted him to work for her love, not for her to give her love on a platter. Still, Cyrstil could barley resist.

Lor'themar dug into his steak with his cutlery, tearing and lifting a piece into his mouth. Cyrstil watched him, watched as his unused lips welcomed the food into his mouth. There was no telling what had gone in there, but as far as Cyrstil knew it, no other woman's tongue had went into that territory. His hands were so... perfect, and his face looked as if it was carved by angels. His chest was well toned and she could not stop thinking of how strong he must have been...

Lor'themar could not resist looking at her either. However, his thoughts were different. Everytime she cut that unfortunate bird and put it's meat into her mouth he longed and longed and longed for his tongue to be there instead. Her curves were near flawless, and her face was well composed. And her bosoms were so... large. Lor'themar could not help himself from wishing that he would be blessed enough to kiss her during the evening. And maybe even... no that would not happen. He wanted to build the relationship, not rush it just for guilty pleasures.

Cyrstilynda accidentally dropped her fork. The metal of it fell slowly to the ground, and it seemed to cause tremors in the floor. Both of their eyes headed over to the fallen cutlery. Being the gentleman he was, Lor'themar offered to go down and retrieve it for her, considering she was wearing that dress. She had accepted and Lor'themar bent down.

Now, Lor'themar wasn't trying to look up her dress. It was the last thing on his mind during the act. But when his wandering eye went up slightly...

Curves. Curves. And more curves. Toned legs. Legs that deserved to be nibbled on while they-

_Stop thinking of that. She is just your date for tonight. Nothing more... for now._

Lor emerged and placed the fork on the table. Cyrstil smiled. Lor smiled back. "Perhaps I should summon the servant to fetch you a more cleaner one?" Cyrstil nodded. "That would be best."

XXX

The dinner was over, and both components were sated. They sat there for 20 whole minutes after the meal, just staring at each other, enjoying each other's company. Lor'themar would strike with a conversation that many would be unable to participate in, and Cyrstilynda would join in, able to speak unlike most others. They drank the finest wine in all of Quel'thalas, they told each other jokes, and they admired each other's look. It all seemed perfect, they both seemed that they were a match made in heaven. Then Lor'themar asked an honest question, one straight from his heart.

"Cyrstilynda..." he said, his voice laden with honey and sweetness. Cyrstil looked up into his eyes, both of them. His right eye, without the eye patch on, showed all the sorrow he had gone through, the loss of his entire family and the possible betrayal of his brother, the purging of Quel'thalas, the realm that he had sworn to defend with his very life, and the betrayal of one he once considered a brother, Dar'khan Drakthir. In his other eye, she saw hope, love that he was willing to give her, the love he still had. The hope that, one day, perhaps he would have a family, and all the things he had missed out during his duty. She saw her, older now, sitting beside him on a throne, while he sat upon the grand throne and wore the crown of Quel'thalas. Their children, two boys and a girl, ran around under their feet, playing, teasing each other and singing silly songs. One of the boys looked exactly like Lor'themar, and their daughter looked like her, young though. The other boy looked like Lor'themar with darker hair, possibly Lor's brother who he had forsook. The two parents both looked glad and happy that they had such children to call their own. Lor'themar was king, Cyrstilynda was Queen, and the children were the Princes and Princess of Quel'Thalas.

That was the future that Cyrstilynda wanted. And to see it in Lor'themar's eyes, it meant that he must have wanted it as well.

Lor'themar continued. "If tomorrow, I asked for your hand in marriage, would you accept, or would you decline it?"

Cyrstil did not answer. Instead, she came closer and kissed him on the lips, her tongue in. Lor'themar moaned and both of their tongues intertwined. It was his first kiss, and he never wanted it to end. Neither did Cyrstil, for she enjoyed the taste of him. Then Cyrstil broke the kiss and whispered. "I would accept," she said. Then she added, guiltily. "But first, I must confess..."

"I am... a Drakthir"


	4. Cyrstilynda Drakthir

**Sunfury Spire Romance**

**Chapter 4: Cyrstilynda Drakthir**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Warcraft**

**Sorry. This isn't the real Lemon chapter. But I had this bunny a few minutes ago and I couldn't help it. Enjoy!**

**Also...**

**Very sorry of how long I took to publish this. But I went on a vacation so yeah. **

**P.S I am sort of rushing to make this story work! Trust me, I have better works but, I'm sort of shy to post them!**

Lor'themar's first reaction to the revelation was to strangle the girl to death. And, to a sence, he almost did.

Lor's hands were tight around Cyrstil's throat, limiting air. Cyrstil mouth was agape. If the Regent Lord squeezed any harder, she would die. She had to calm him down before that happened to her. She tried her best. She did not want to die.

"Lor!" She screamed out. She tried to grip his hands to stop him. "Stop! Please! I can-"

"You lied to me!" He yelled in anger, madder than ever, tightening his grip. "You are a damned whore, Cyrstil! A WHORE!"

Cyrstil tried harder. By now, she was attempting to bite his hands. "Please! Stop Lor'themar! Please! Let me-"

They both heard a sickening crack, indicating that Lor had broken a bone in Cyrstil's neck. She screamed loudly, the sound piercing Lor'themar's ears. Irritated, Lor'themar pushed her to the floor, laying over her, and put both hands on her mouth, muffling her cries of pain.

"I do not want to hear it!" He yelled, slapping her in the face, a bit of blood going onto his hands from it. "You are a sibling of that bastard! THAT BASTARD! AND YOU LIED!" Then he added, when he saw Cyrstil begin to cry: "SHUT UP! I HAVE BEEN THROUGH WORST BECAUSE OF YOUR BROTHER!"

Cyrstil looked straight into Lor's eyes, not afraid anymore. Her tears went dry, and she stopped her thrashing and biting. She just lay there, and looked him straight in the eyes. Lor'themar looked into her eyes as well. Something registered into his mind. A forgotten instinct that he had forsaken long ago, when he was forced to murder orc women and children in the Second War.

_Woman...hurt. Save her._

XXX

_It had been years ago, so long that Lor'themar, the son of Gaelhas and Mystera, could vaguely remember. The order had been issued. The camp was to be purged. And each and every orc within it's permitter was to be killed. _

_Even the sun could not make the deed seem any cleaner as Lor'themar and his trope stood atop the hill that foreshadowed the camp. Younger now, Lor'themar had never killed before. Yes, he was trained to but, never had he directly killed a man, or woman, or child. Today would be his day of trial. Was he truly prepared to carry out duties such as these, for Quel'thalas? Was he prepared for the rights he was given, was he prepared to wield the bow and arrow he had practiced with?_

_Lor'themar prayed to the High God that he was._

_His second in command, Halduron Brightwing, walked up to him. Unlike Lor'themar, Hal had already taken lives, and knew how it felt to do it. He came now to comfort his friend, and give him guidance and wisdom._

_"Lor'themar..." he began, placing his arrows inside his quiver. "It is the right thing to do."_

_Lor'themar grunted. "Is killing not a sin, old friend?" He asked, angry at himself and Sylvannas for making him do this._

_Halduron frowned. "Killing... is a sin," he answered softly. "But when you, we, joined the Farstriders... we accepted the fact that we were going to commit sins, we were going to do despicable things. We were going to murder, steal, rape and pillage. But we also accepted the fact that we were going to do that for Quel'thalas, our home, our kingdom. We were going to do that for our king, our prince, our royal family. We were going to do that for our children and the citizens that live among us. We were not becoming street thugs by pledging ourselves to the Crown, we are not. And if, well, when we die, we will wear our phoenixes on our chests, and die like heroes, and be able to live in the afterlife that we deserve."_

_Lor'themar frowned. As much as he wished it was not, Halduron had spoken the entire truth. He was a Farstrider, and he was to do what they said. He then looked back at his old friend and smiled slightly. _

_"Many thanks Halduron."_

_"Twas not a burden, son of Gaelhas."_

_Lor'themar looked upon the camp of Orcs one more time, before heading back towards his trope to tell the battle plan._

_Lor'themar stood in front of a dying female orc and child. The female choked and sputtered, blood spreading upon the floor, while the child simply hid behind her, his head in his arms. Both were in no shape to fight him, and both seemed to look like they were dying. Lor'themar looked like the devil to them, the dark sun of the sunset casting a shadow in the tent. He was the only ranger in there right now, nobody else existed. For a moment, he stood there, just reflecting on what he was supposed to do. _

_So I am expected to kill the child and the woman... oh woe is me. What a fate for both of them..._

_Lor'themar wasted no time. If he did not do his duty, he would be disgraced. Slowly, he notched a bow in his arrow and lifted it, aiming at the child. The child gasped then huddled in a ball in the corner. Lor'themar considered the child for a moment. Did he truly deserve death? He was just a little boy, too young to start trouble, too young to fight against them. Too young to even gather food for his family. Why did he have to do this? Why did he have to dirty himself with this task? He tried to shake his worry away, and released the bow._

_The arrow lodged in the boy's chest and he gasped. He spent the last seconds of his life holding on to the arrow in him, reflecting on how much damage a simple weapon could do. then the boy's head hit the wall behind him, signaling his death. The mother began to cry softly over the loss of him, and Lor'themar froze, if only for a moment. He didn't want to do this. He wanted to leave, he didn't want to kill anyone. He wanted to go home. Shivers went through him. He killed the boy. He killed, a child. He felt like the devil, like a monster, like a demon. Why did he have to do it? Why did he do it? _**Why?**

_From outside, Lor'themar could hear footsteps. His fellow men and women. He didn't want them to finish her off. It would be better if he did so himself._

_With his heart cold and frozen, he slowly notched his bow. The woman in the corner began to whimper and cower, covering her head with her hands. She kept repeating things in orcish, and while Lor'themar had picked some phrases up, he did not understand what she was saying. "Bin kag mus tel an. Bin kag mus tel an." She repeated softly and weakly, her blood staining the floor. Lor'themar considered her for a moment. Just a woman, just a woman, just a woman, just a woman. Why must she die?_

_Lor'themar let go._

_The arrow flew straight and true, straight into her heart, killing her instantly. Lor'themar stood there, soulless, cold, bitter. Unmoving..._

**Sorry. Once again I have rushed the chapter. I was really just trying to emphasis on the fact that Lor'themar is not a cold hearted killer. I'll try to get out the next chapter by Christmas. Sorry. I am pretty busy these days, and I'm starting to lose my writing talent. Until next time.**


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